


Boys Will Be Boys

by rotguts



Category: No Fandom
Genre: Best Friends, Boyfriends, Canon Gay Character, Canon Gay Relationship, Developing Relationship, Everyone Is Gay, Fiction, Friends to Lovers, Gay, Gay Male Character, Gender Dysphoria, General fiction, LGBT, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Character of Color, LGBTQ Themes, Latino Character, M/M, Mexican Character, Mutual Pining, NSFW, Pining Idiot X Oblivious Dumbass, Suggestive Themes, Trans, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, Ugh im a slut for the bffs to lovers trope kill me with it PLEASE, kinda . not really nsfw only slightly suggestive, this is really bad actually :/, uhhh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-06
Updated: 2018-07-15
Packaged: 2019-06-06 02:13:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15184502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rotguts/pseuds/rotguts
Summary: It's not unusual for Lucas to dream about things he yearns for.It's just that his dreams have never been THIS realistic.





	1. Long Night

**Author's Note:**

> This has very suggestive, borderline NSFW themes so like... be careful, chilren, thas a lot of sexual tension :v

**\- L U C A S -**

It's dark in his room, with only minimal light pouring in through his windows, silverish and faint. All he can see are the edges of the face staring down at him, painted in that pale white glow. Two dark eyes that seem endless gaze deeply into his own, wide and full of emotions that, through the pitch blackness, he cannot decode. Not that he needs to, really, what with the way a set of hands tug his head forward, tangled in his hair, and float around the curves and valleys of his back, his chest, his arms... it's not hard to tell what they reflect.

"Please--"

It's a whimper, soft and barely audible even in the dead silence surrounding them both. Still, it hangs in the air, evaporates, and encases the spaces around them, every nook and cranny, every little space between their faces, between their bodies, between their lips.

Quickly enough, a pair of chapped lips slithers across his jaw, leaving a trail of hot, lingering kisses in its wake. They burn into his skin, sink down into the deepest parts of him, etch themselves into his bones. It sends his head reeling, spiraling, heart beating out of control. His back arcs, eyes flutter shut, and he moans, loudly and with no hesitation, no shame, no guilt, because _God_ , if _that_ isn't the hottest thing he's ever felt, then he really doesn't know what is.

Suddenly, the silence is cut by a round of laughter. It's lively just as much as it is off-putting for the situation they're in.

"That was hot. That was really, really hot." A voice--Mateo's voice--says, halfway through a chuckle. His voice gets softer and closer until it rings right next to his ear, forcing a shiver down his spine. "Do it again," it begs. "Baby, puh- _lease_ ~"

And just like that, without leaving Lucas even a sliver of a chance to respond, those same lips from before capture his in a kiss that burns hotter than the sun. He's sure they'd melt his skin right off his bones if only it were possible.

All he feels then is the clashing of teeth, the swirling of tongues, the molding of bodies, the traveling of hands. Hands that are calloused, hands that are blistering hot, hands that tug at his hair and slither underneath his shirt and reach into the waistband of his jeans, involuntarily making his hips buck upwards. Another moan falls from his mouth and his head falls back once more. God, it never ends. The pleasure, the kisses, the passion, the _heat_. Lucas fears he's losing his mind from how impossible it feels for him to think. It's all so clouded. All he can hear, all he can see, all he can _feel_ is what's right in front of him and around him and on top of him, pushing him down on the mattress and pulling his top over his head.

It doesn't take long before his jeans are gone too and he's chest-to-chest with the otherworldly creature resting on his torso, one knee on either side of it, an added friction heavy on his bare skin caused by the fabric of ripped skinny jeans. With his jaw cupped by long, slender fingers, teased by fingernails he can't see and yet knows are painted a jet black, he mewls and moans and begs helplessly. He holds onto Mateo's shoulders, digging his fingers into his skin. And again he begs and begs and begs, wanting _more_ and _more_ and _more_. More of that friction, that fire, those _lips_.

But suddenly, just like that, far too soon for his liking, it's all over.

A booming sound, something akin to thunder, forces him out of his dream and he opens his eyes in a flash, forcing himself up from his laying position and, in doing so, also forcing his hand out of his pants.

Lucas finds himself alone in his bedroom, tingly and heated and riled up to the extreme. His head is spinning, heart drumming, ears buzzing. An uncomfortable strain rests against his jeans, forming a tent, but he tries not to think about it as he focuses instead on how to bring himself down from his high.

He decides to take a quick shower, feeling the guilt of thinking of his _best friend_ like... like  _that..._  wash over him like a wave. He hopes the ice-cold water will calm him down and break him away from the thoughts consuming him, but as he stands under the shower head, feeling the droplets prickle his back like needles, all he can think about are the lips that kissed him with such fervor in his dream. He thinks back to how soft they felt... so feather-like and real. How they made his skin burn and his hands shake like nothing else has done before. He shakes his head helplessly, heat rushing to his face as he brushes away the thoughts.

He turns the water off and brings a towel to his head, drying his hair before tying it around his waist. Back in his room, he changes into clean underwear, basketball shorts, and jumps back into bed. According to the clock on his wall, which reads 1:43 AM in neon red digits, it's far too early to be awake.

As the storm rages on outside, rain pouring against his window, he turns on his side and closes his eyes. Immediately he sees two brown eyes and a smile that sends his heart into a frenzy all over again. He knows in a second that it's going to be a long, long night.


	2. Hot to the Touch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, the things we want most are just a little too close for comfort.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just as gay as the first chapter but not nearly as NSFW. Only just a little. If you look really hard, you'll see a hint of suggestiveness, maybe. Or if you're really religious or a huge massive virgin or like <16 years old. But really. You should be fine. It's cool. I toned it down.

**\- L U C A S -**

It's a quarter to ten and Lucas has never felt hotter. His skin burns and aches like he's got blisters covering every inch of it, as though he's just spent the whole day skinny dipping in the sun. He wonders what the temperature is inside the house and if maybe the AC's broken down, but as the body next to him presses further against him, and as the arm thrown over his hip tightens its iron grip on the fabric of his shirt, it occurs to him that he's got no way of knowing, because consciously or not, Mateo seems to never want to let him go. 

The thought of it has his heart beating nearly out of his chest, going at a hundred miles per hour in its cage of bones and cartilage, reminding Lucas more of a race car or perhaps a spaceship, or really just anything other than a muscle that pumps oxygen through to his lungs. 

He twists slowly, turning his body so he's suddenly staring right at the face that haunts his dreams most. He studies the way Teo's dark curls sweep over his forehead, casting shadows over his brown skin. He studies the length of his eyelashes and how they brush faintly against the freckles on his cheeks. He studies his nose, how it moves as he breathes in and out rhythmically, shifting the piercing on his left nostril up and down just barely noticeably, and close enough to feel his hot breath on his chest. He loses himself staring down at his lips, pouted and parted ever so slightly, looking as soft as ever and closer than ever before. 

He wonders what they'd feel like. Thinking back to all his dreams, he wonders if they'd feel like that, or if they'd feel  _better._ More realistic, probably. Obviously. And undeniably softer, too, he thinks then. Then he imagines them pressed against his knuckles in a quick kiss, or on his cheek, or his nose. Maybe even his jaw. In his mind, they move down to the crook of his neck, press hard against his skin there, before moving on to his collarbones, then his chest, then his navel. Like every other time, he lets himself become consumed by fantasies of nights spent in the bedroom, bathed in the moonlight that peeks through his curtains, accompanied by the one person he knows he can't have. He feels it all more vividly than he should, the temperature of his skin, of the hands and lips pressed against it, the fabric skirting around them as shirts are discarded, jeans unzipped, and boxers removed. 

The more he thinks about it, the faster the heat rises from his feet, growing hotter the higher it gets, swelling up in his chest, in his head, in his groin. As he lays there, losing himself in his thoughts, eyes falling shut involuntarily, a voice brings him back down from the clouds all too soon.

"Hey, dude," it whispers, the heat from the words fanning across his chest making him shiver. "I gotta go piss."

 _Of course, you do,_ Lucas thinks, groaning as he removes his arms from around Teo and scooches back on the couch. The cold hits him as soon as he gets on his feet, leaving a body-shaped dent on the cushions. 

"I'll be back, though. You're  _very_  comfortable," he adds as he leaves the room. 

Lucas can't say for sure, but something in his mind tells him there might have been a hint of a smirk on his face as he walked off into the dark hallway leading into the living room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YEA the ending sucks but so does being single and I'm not complaining so you shouldn't either.


	3. Baby Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What Mateo would really like to do is confess his love for his best friend, but maybe he should start with something smaller. Something much, much, MUCH smaller.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's short and cute and very disappointing.

**\- M A T E O -**

He can feel everything. Lucas' breath on his neck, his gaze on his face, his hands on his chest. The proximity is unbearable, the heat undeniable, the silence deafening. He  _yearns_ to touch him, to grab him by the collar, to kiss him until the sun goes down and the stars start shining. His hands ache for his neck, his hair, his hips; his lips ache for his chest, his shoulder blades, his tongue. And it's ridiculous, really, for him to feel the urgency of something he knows he shouldn't feel for someone he knows shouldn't want when all he's doing is helping him fix his tie and fold his collar a mere two hours before he has to be off to a wedding he'd really rather not go to. 

"There," Lucas says, voice unnervingly steady and smooth, pulling away from his bubble of personal space and leaving Teo feeling just a little bit colder. "It's done."

He watches as he inspects his work from a respectable distance, his own jaw clicking as he swallows the words hanging on his tongue. He watches as he smiles ever so slightly, then lifts his gaze to reach his own. Their eyes meet. Teo loses himself in pools of brown so dark they look black and endless. He starts seeing stars, galaxies, supernovas; it's all in his head, he knows, but  _God,_ he could stare at them forever.

"I think I did pretty okay," Lucas continues. It's clear to Teo he's filling the silences he's making, and yet he can't find it in him to say any words. He doesn't trust himself to hold back the ones he knows he's not allowed to say. "I mean, it's a  _little_ crooked, but I don't think your Tío will--"

And then he does it. With reckless abandon, he opens his mouth, cutting him off effectively, and saying in the midst of a flurry of emotions, "Do you want to be my plus one?"

It's not a lot, and it's certainly not  _at all_ what he'd  _really_ like to tell him, not by far. But he's got a limit to how many boundaries he can cross--how many boundaries he has the  _courage_ to cross. And out of all those boundaries, inviting his best friend to his uncle's wedding as his plus one seems to be the safest bet. 

Still, he digs his fingers into the pocket of his trousers anxiously as the words hang in the air, loud in his ears, but not quite loud enough to drown out the hammering in his chest. He's about to speak again, to take back the offer and apologize for even thinking it was an okay thing to ask, but it's  _his_ turn to get cut off this time. 

"Yes," Lucas says. There's hesitance in his response, and Teo can see clearly he's taken him by surprise, but the smile on his face hasn't faded, and if anything, Teo would  _bet_ it got even wider, and he notices a glimmer in his eyes that wasn't there when he was tying his tie. The sight of it makes his heart beat faster and his chest feel tighter. "I think that'd be pretty fun." 

 


End file.
